


Run Like Hell

by molmcmahon



Series: Harry Potter in Assassin's Creed [16]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Desmond Miles Needs a Hug, Don't copy to another site, Dreamsharing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, He gets several in this story, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: 5 times Harry Potter and Desmond Miles shared a dream and 1 time they didn’t have to.
Relationships: Desmond Miles/Harry Potter
Series: Harry Potter in Assassin's Creed [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550224
Comments: 12
Kudos: 213





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either HP or Assassin's Creed.

“Stand up straight! No slouching! Desmond, get back here!”

The yelling drew Harry’s attention even as he began to walk through the grey fog. He distantly knew he was dreaming as he hadn’t seen this kind of thing ever. It was a farm but not a farm at the same time. It was just the farm too and nothing else. It was a big home but not too fancy, at the border of a big yard that was covered in… mist. 

More yelling came from around the barn and Harry padded through grass as if it was mud. It was if something was holding him to the ground and his heart thumped again as he heard a whimper. He tried to pick up the pace as he slogged through the heavy grass, stepping through the door that seemed to close in on him as he passed through it. 

“You should be better than all of them, Desmond! You’re the prodigal son!”

Harry tilted his head in confusion as both voices seemed to echo through the home. He ran through the house, seeing the strange symbol thrown all over the place. It was etched into the wood, into the doorway and the door itself and he ran up a set of stairs, as he heard another whimper.

“Your ancestors would be ashamed of you! You’re no good for anything but to be support! I’m ashamed to be your father!”

He flinched and looked around, hoping for another whimper when… he heard it. Shadows pooled around the home, making it seem darker and creepier, as if the shadows would pop out and be the things of nightmares. Though… This certainly wasn’t his own dream. He hoped… No. He knew James Potter was a better father than this man was being.

He turned into one doorway and looked around, searching for the boy that had been making the watery whimpers. Harry looked around the sparsely decorated room and spotted a slightly open closet and heard the heavy breathing that echoed from it. 

“You are supposed to be the best Assassin but you make me sick just looking at you!”

Harry paled at the shouted and echoing words and crouched down as he approached the closet. He slowly reached out and pushed the door open even further, revealing a teenager who might have been 3 years younger than him. The teen had slightly darker skin than Harry did and as he turned to look at Harry, pale brown eyes. 

The teen’s eyes widened and his fast breathing echoed in the closet and the room.

“You’re not my father. He’s coming.”

“Uh… no, I’m not your father. I’m Harry. And you’re…”

“Desmond. Do you want to share my hiding spot? William doesn’t let me have friends but I could have one in my dreams, I think. He wouldn’t find you.”

“William?”

“He’s my father,” Desmond whispered, flinching as they both heard another yell.

“This is a dream. You could… change it. It doesn’t have to be a nightmare.”

Desmond looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. “It could?”

“This is your dream, right?”

“Yeah,” Desmond replied, turning to look at the room behind them. “But… sometimes it’s better to just let it happen and then wake up. It’s better to just go quiet when he’s like this when I’m awake too.”

Harry blinked and shivered as the dream house was buffeted by howling wind. “Do you want to come into my dreams?”

“How? This is my dream.”

Harry held out his hand and Desmond took it without hesitation, fitting his hand into Harry’s fingers. Harry pulled him up and out of the closet and looked him over. Desmond was wearing pajamas that looked second hand, a shirt and a loose pair of sweat pants. Harry was just in jeans and a ragged shirt, the clothes that he had passed out in on his bunk.

“Are you sure this will work?” Desmond questioned, as he followed Harry out of the room and through the shadowy hallways. “We’re both dreaming, right?”

“Yeah. The last thing I remember is going to sleep. You?”

“I fell asleep in the stables,” Desmond offered, as they ran through the home and out onto the porch. “I was just hiding from William and then the barn dog lay down with me in the straw and…”

“That sounds like a good place to nap.”

“It was,” Desmond said, shrugging. “The animals don’t shout at me like William does. And they don’t judge.”

“Desmond, come back here! You need to be prepared! There are Templars out there!”

Desmond snorted and held Harry’s hand tighter as he took them farther out from the house, to the place where he had… appeared. The border of the farm shimmered and as they ran, Harry could see there were other buildings. Not just a barn and a house but other homes as well. A wooden and stone wall ran around the group of homes, like a commune. The wizarding world had places like those, where it was just wizards and witches living in them. 

“Come on!”

Desmond nodded and Harry led them on through the deep grasses and then jumped through the shimmering mist. Harry landed on his back and Desmond landed next to him, rolling until he sat up. Harry watched the other teenager move, the movements reminding him almost of a ballet dancer. 

“Whoa! Where are we?”

* * *

Desmond looked at the stone castle that lay around them, at the shimmering stained glass that lined the windows. Tables were strewn everywhere, along with benches that lined the edges. Flags and banners flew from the ceiling and clouds gathered between them, as if it was mirroring what the weather looked like.

Harry looked up too, his heart thumping in his chest at the sight of what Hogwarts looked like to him as a first year. The castle was bigger than in reality, almost towering but safe. In his first year, he had thought that he would be safe from everything at Hogwarts, safe from the Dursleys, safe from… anything. Now… the castle was slightly in ruins and had been laid siege to.

Now… he had gone through seven years and with every year, there had been growing danger.

Desmond looked awe struck as he stayed still, his shoulders curled inward. “Where are we really?”

“Hogwarts. It’s my…” Harry trailed off, pondering the consequences of what he was about to do. “It’s where I went to school.”

Though… they were dreaming. He also didn’t know where Desmond lived or if he was a real person. He didn’t know what was going on and neither did Desmond, it seemed. 

“Fuck it.”

Desmond let out a smothered laugh at his word and Harry grinned. 

“It’s beautiful,” Desmond muttered, falling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I could go to school here instead of at the Farm. They never let me out beyond the Walls.”

“Are you a prisoner?”

“No. I feel like one. They keep talking about Assassins and Templars and this whole grand fight that’s lasted centuries,” Desmond retorted, laying his hands on his chest. Harry noticed a scar or two on the top of Desmond’s hands and he could see Desmond eying the scar that Harry had on his right hand, the one that the blood quill caused.

“Assassins? Templars?”

“I know, right? There’s no such thing. They still want me to be perfect Desmond, the best at combat and hand to hand and stealth.”

“You’re only…”

“15. I’m 15. William sucks.”

Harry laid down on the floor of the castle and turned to face Desmond, as the other teenager turned on his side. “At least you have a father.”

Desmond’s eyes widened and then softened. “Are you an orphan? There are a few orphans at the Farm. Their parents never came back.”

“My parents died when I was one and a half. There was a prophecy and a Dark Lord and all that,” Harry remarked, meeting Desmond’s light brown eyes that seemed to almost spark. 

“I’m sorry,” Desmond offered.

“You weren’t there,” Harry said, making an idle motion with his hand. “Not your problem. So… Assassin? As in people who kill other people?”

Desmond nodded. “It’s a whole thing. I refuse to learn any of it though.”

“Any witches or wizards on the Farm?”

Desmond blinked and stared at Harry curiously. “Wizards and witches? Like in the stories?”

Harry stared back. “So you’re not… Then why are we… sharing a dream.”

“What?”

“You’re… non magical.”

“Yeah, despite what my dad thinks of me or what he hoped I’d become. What about…” Desmond trailed off as he looked at Harry. “Are you… a wizard?”

“Yes. There’s a wizarding world, hidden but large,” Harry explained. “I don’t know where you live or if you’re really… real but yeah.”

“The Farm is hidden,” Desmond offered, his voice lowering and then he grinned. “To keep us safe from templars. Oooh. They’re not even real but I think I believe you. I’ve never seen a castle like this. You’re really… a wizard.”

“I can do magic. That’s what Hogwarts is. A place to learn magic. Do you have access to a computer? You could look up what happened in London two years ago. The terrorist attacks there.”

Desmond blinked and then nodded. “Yeah. Sure. But… you said hidden. Should you really be…”

“You would just be looking up terrorist attacks. Nothing special. I don’t know a thing about Assassins or Templars but maybe we can figure out whether this is real or not.”

Desmond stared at him and then glanced back up to the ceiling. “I’m definitely not going to tell William about this. I want something all to myself. He’d yell at me again.”

Harry shuffled closer to Desmond’s side and then shrugged, thinking about wanting a blanket. A blanket appeared an instant later, thick and large and lowered itself over the both of them. Desmond smiled and moved to curl into Harry’s side easily, not even thinking twice about it. 

“I’ll keep you safe from nightmares tonight,” Harry whispered.

“What was your dream like before you walked into mine?” Desmond asked, his voice muffled under the blanket.

“I just remember falling asleep and then dreaming here,” Harry said, yawning a little. “I just turned 18 and my friends threw a big party for me. Maybe it was something… No. No prank is this good.”

Desmond snorted and curled further into him. “I wish I could stay here forever. This is nice. Not having to listen to William talk about how I should be improving daily or that I’m doing this stance wrong.”

“Does he… hit you?”

“He did slap my wrist when I was moving the wrong way. And then there was the time that he kicked out at me and tripped me to get me to--”

Harry sucked in a tight breath at Desmond’s words. “Desmond.”

Desmond looked at him, meeting his eyes and then sighed. “I want to run away from here. Were you born a wizard?”

“Yes. I also lived with my aunt and uncle who did much the same things,” Harry offered quietly, looking up at the ceiling. “Except without the combat training. I know what it’s like. Isn’t someone… saying something to your father? What about your mother?”

“She’s the same except without the physical parts. I don’t want to do this.”

“I thought about running away,” Harry remarked, turning back to face Desmond. “When I was 13. Do you have anywhere to go?”

“Anywhere but here. I… I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere outside of the walls,” Desmond finally said after a few minutes of silence. “William always says it’s too dangerous and that Abstergo has agents everywhere. Abstergo’s not everywhere and everything that he says is bullshit.”

“What’s Abstergo?”

“You don’t know about Abstergo?”

Harry shook his head.

“Apparently Abstergo was founded by Templars,” Desmond replied, his lips curling into a grimace. “It’s everywhere.”

“I’ve never heard of Abstergo.”

Desmond looked at Harry and met the other teenager’s bright green eyes. “Never?”

“I might be wrong but yeah. I’ve never heard of Abstergo.”

“Well, whatever. I’m getting out of here sometime soon.”

“Be careful?”

Desmond nodded and took a breath. “I can use their training against them to hide. That’ll fool with them.”

Harry reached out and Desmond slipped his fingers into his.

“I’ll be careful,” Desmond whispered. “I think I hear my teacher calling.”

“Good luck.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was amidst a backdrop of skyscrapers that Harry dreamt of Desmond again, the loud sounds of the city echoing through the dream itself. The dream centered around a bar but Harry couldn’t see what it was called, as he looked around for answers or at least a familiar face. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in Grimmauld Place, exhausted after taking his mediwizard exams. 

“Hey, Harry!”

He whirled around and came face to face with Desmond Miles, the boy he had first dreamt of seven years ago. Now he was 25 and Desmond looked to be roughly 22, three years younger than him. 

“Desmond!”

Desmond blinked and then grinned, idly looking around the empty, dreamlike bar as he walked over to Harry. 

“Are you still in North Dakota?” Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Desmond shook his head, his lips curling up into a wider grin. “Nope. I ran three years after our first dream. And by the way, it still sounds weird. Why the fuck are we sharing dreams?”

“Don’t look at me. I don’t have answers. Did you search for the London terrorist attacks? Are we even…” Harry trailed off, sparing a glance to the dreamlike mist that surrounded the outside of the bar, visible through the windows. 

“In the same universe? Are you even real? I wasn’t able to find any evidence of terrorist attacks in London that year.”

“Yeah. Though… I don’t think our brains would be able to dream even this,” Harry offered, shrugging. “Good. I’m glad you got away. Are you alright now?”

Desmond snorted and gestured to the bar. “Yeah. I haven’t been using my name and I’ve been moving around, from Chicago, but yeah. I’m alright. I’m a bartender now at Bad Weather, a bar in New York.”

Harry followed Desmond over to the bar stools and sat down on one, watching as Desmond walked behind the counter. “Bad Weather? That’s the bar’s name?”

Desmond grinned but nodded. “I wasn’t picky. Couldn’t be when I’m… technically on the run. You think you can drink in dreams?”

Harry blinked, pondered that and then shrugged again. “I summoned a blanket for the both of us in our first dream. Why not? You any good of a bartender?”

Desmond stared at him, his eyes sparking with challenge. “Try me.”

“Uh… I don’t know of any drinks that non magical people drink,” Harry remarked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to think of any. Sure, he and Ron had gone to a non magical bar a few times but the drinks he had tried had not stayed in his mind. “And you’re over drinking age, right?”

“22. I know how to kill people in five different ways,” Desmond offered, winking at him and then breaking out into laughter. Harry grinned back, enjoying the sound of Desmond’s laughter. It was so much better than the last dream they shared together, hearing Desmond’s scared whimpers. “At least in theory. William pounded it into me. Thought that Abstergo wanted me because I was the prodigal son. What a load of bullshit that was. Abstergo doesn’t have spies everywhere.”

“So… Abstergo… I checked in my… world and I never found any business called Abstergo. Maybe…” Harry trailed off.

“None of that serious talk, Harry. We’re drinking.”

“In a dream?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then. Make me… a drink that you created yourself.”

Desmond smiled, closed his eyes tightly, and they both watched as bottles of alcohol appeared on the counter behind them. “I’ll make you a Shirley Templar. The boss liked it and so do a lot of people.”

“Shirley Templar?” Harry echoed, his lips curling up into an amused grin. “Any relation to your father’s alleged Templars?”

Desmond smirked and turned around, grabbing dream glasses and bottles of various kinds of alcohol and started to mix them. “It’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as Assassins or Templars. How’re you doing? What’s wizarding life like? No grand conspiracies in your part of the world?”

“Oh, don’t get me started but at least there’s no more war,” Harry responded over the clinking of glasses. “And my scar doesn’t hurt at all. It’s a plus.”

“Your scar used to hurt?”

“Yes. It was… a whole thing,” Harry said, leaning his arms down on the counter and head on his arms. “I got it when the guy who killed my parents tried to kill me. I was one and a half.”

Desmond turned around, glasses in hand, to stare at him. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“There was a prophecy,” Harry explained, tracing the dream bar counter with his fingers. Sparks of raw magic touched the bar counter and hit the counter with light thumps, almost like rain hitting glass. “He thought I would be the one to kill him so he tried to kill me. Ended up killing my parents because they stood between him and me.”

Desmond opened his mouth and closed it. “I… Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you? This is only the second time we’ve shared dreams and who knows if we’ll share more. Besides, you’re not a wizard yourself. You wouldn’t know and… I like you. It’s hard going around wizarding London knowing everyone knows your family history and knows every movement you make.”

Desmond stared at him, a bottle of alcohol opened his hand and a glass in the other. “Sounds exhausting.”

“It is. It’s nice to have you though even though this… thing… isn’t frequent,” Harry remarked, watching as Desmond turned back around. “Are you living well? I know what it’s like to be on the run from something.”

“I’m getting by. I don’t… I only just found this job,” Desmond said, pouring another bottle of alcohol into the glass and then handing it over. “I want to… know more.”

Harry met Desmond’s pale brown eyes as he took the glass, looking the young man over. He peered down at the liquid within the glass and then took a sip, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down his throat. 

  
  


* * *

Desmond watched as Harry took another sip and waited. “Well?”

“Nothing like butter beer and it’s sweet but bitter.”

“I’ve heard worse,” Desmond offered, taking a sip of alcohol. “Hey, if we drink now, will we be drunk when we wake up?”

Harry blinked at him. “Ummm… I don’t actually know. The only magical dreams I’ve had in the past were sharing another person’s mind and those weren’t even dreams. I don’t know how this works. Well… at least my exams are done.”

“Exams?”

“I’m officially a mediwizard,” Harry explained, his green eyes bright as he watched Desmond. “Healer. Or the wizarding equivalent of a doctor. I also… took my defense mastery exams in my spare time. I think I pulled a Hermione.”

Desmond watched as Harry smiled wider, his eyes clearly caught on memories. He grinned wistfully, wanting to be… as safe as Harry was now. Now he had to make sure there were no friends of his dad’s out to get him.

“Pulled a Hermione?”

“Hermione’s my best friend, almost like a sister to me,” Harry offered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “During our third year of classes, she used a time turner to take two times the classes.”

“Time turner?”

“Time travel,” Harry said and Desmond’s eyes widened.

“Cool. So you could… travel back in time to say… the civil war?”

“No. It just takes you back a few hours,” Harry remarked, taking another sip of the drink. “Hermione and I used it to save my godfather and Buckbeak back at the end of our third year.”

“Buckbeak?”

“Oh, I haven’t told you all about the wizarding world yet, have I? Buckbeak’s a hippogriff,” Harry explained, grinning at him. “Hmm. This is a dream. I could show you Buckbeak. Just a minute. Let me… picture him.”

Desmond swallowed at the smile that Harry gave him, his heart skipping a beat. “It sounds… wonderful.”

Harry sighed and frowned before smiling a little. “It is. At least for the most part. I’m a little wistful for when I didn’t know any better and was just being introduced to it on my first year but… magic… is beautiful.”

Desmond watched as Harry closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them. Harry gestured behind him and Desmond spun his bar stool around, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him. The creature in front of him was as big as a horse but it was clearly… magical. Half horse and half eagle with wings that spread out from its body. It was dappled grey with an eagle’s head and a horse’s body, its’ front feet eagle claws and hind feet ending in hooves.

“Whoa. Awesome.”

“I know,” Harry murmured, shuffling over on his chair to lean against Desmond. “You want to hear all about the wizarding world, huh?”

“It’s better than mine. At least I know it’s real,” Desmond remarked, curling further into Harry’s side. He glanced down at the bar stools underneath them and pictured instead a couch, soft and comfortable and pillows. 

Harry let out a strangled sound and then smiled as the stools transformed into a couch. “Much more comfortable. Alright. Story time.”

Desmond snorted and burrowed further into Harry’s side, realizing that they were both bigger than they had been the first time they had dreamt together. Harry was 25 and he was 22. Harry was slim but muscular, the kind of muscles that did not come from working out in a gym but from fighting a war. The kind of muscles that he had seen on a few men and women at the Farm.

But Desmond… All he felt around the other young man was…. Safe, even if this was a dream. Whatever they were to each other, whether Harry was real or not, Desmond felt safe with Harry.

“My parents were James and Lily Potter…”

  
  


* * *

Desmond woke up and rubbed his eyes open to an empty apartment and the loud noises of traffic outside. It was cold and loud and empty but there was still… He still felt some leftover warmth and heat from curling into Harry’s side, their hands entwined.


End file.
